3: Moving on
by funnygirl00
Summary: Tammy has finally started to move on with her life after Sherlock's death. She takes care of the fatherless children that Sherlock never got to see. She finds that she even has a possible suitor, who does take her mind off her troubles. But is she ready to move on yet?
1. 1: Baby can't be broken

**Ok, this is the third instillation of my Sherlock fic, which used to be part of 'I won't send roses', but I broke it down and made it easier for everyone to read. It's not overly different from the original, but I have expanded it somewhat and corrected the grammar. The reason it's so short is because it follows the Christmas Special for Sherlock.**

**As always, I own nothing except for Tammy, Linda and Sherlock Jr.**

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><p>Chapter One: Baby can't be broken<p>

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><p>I straightened my dark, purple pinstripe suit that I'd worn for Moriarty's trial. I hadn't known why I'd picked purple when I bought it, but now, I was glad I did. While purple wasn't my favorite color, it obviously had been Sherlock's. I walked into the courtroom, feeling confident. The gallery was packed with familiar and unfamiliar faces. But they all had one thing in common. They all knew Sherlock, and he had helped every one of them.<p>

I approached my lawyer, Mr. Cumberland; he was sorting his papers. He spun around and nodded at me. "This is a cinch Tammy. Look at this." He pointed to a laundry basket, revealing hundreds of letters. "These are all from people your husband helped. I read most of them and," he shook his head in amazement. "he was an incredible individual. There is _no _way on earth he could have been a fake. Most of them are in the gallery and there are more outside. I've never had so many people willing to give evidence in a man's defense in my life!"

I nodded. "I know. He was…wonderful."

"Tammy, they do have a few witnesses, but none as impressive as ours." He lowered his voice. "The ambassador's son that will pretty much win the case. Good job on keeping that hush-hush. I love watching the other side's face when you pull out a surprise witness. I shall try to keep you off the stand if possible."

I shook my head. "If I get called, I will speak."

"Are you sure?" he studied my face. "It's been only two weeks. They won't hesitate in asking you…painful questions to try to prove that they were right."

"You can't keep me off the stand. I'm the only one who can give truly a glowing report of Sherlock. Moriarty is also my brother that is something that will give our side a huge disadvantage."

Then, the trial began to get underway and the first thing on order of the day was the allegations that I was Sherlock's mistress. When my lawyer presented my wedding certificate, my wedding video and then my promise, engagement and wedding ring as evidence. I could tell by the look on all involved that we'd won that case.

Then, we got to the heart of the trail; the accusations that Sherlock was a fake. The opposite end began to state their opinions and Kitty Riley was called to the stage. I could tell that she was extremely nervous about being called on the stand. She then proclaimed that Moriarty was an extremely reliable witness. For a moment, she had the jury in the palm of her hand. Especially when she broke down and cried about what a 'nice, sweet' guy he was. She also insinuated that she wouldn't have put it past Sherlock to have forced Richard shot himself in the head.

They also got Sally and Andersen to testify in their side as well, but they had no actual concrete proof. Sally and Andersen did a great job on twisting Sherlock's image, portraying him as a sick, psychotic, psychopath. But their words couldn't truly disguise Sherlock's genius, no matter how hard they tried.

Mrs. Hudson, Angelo and even Lestrade gave glowing reports. Lestrade had everyone's attention, especially since he was the officer who made the arrest, even when he believed in Sherlock's innocence. John and Henry Knight gave the best testimony of all. Henry had the most mind-boggling case and he had everyone wondering at Sherlock's marvel. John, he honestly was my eye when I wasn't around Sherlock. Now that I thought about it, there was rarely a moment when Sherlock was truly by himself without either of us by his side.

My lawyer presented all the letters of the witness as testimony and it was accepted. I got called up to the stand and sworn in. the reporters all leaned in and listened as I gave a glowing and beautiful testimony of Sherlock from my eyes, through the eyes of a wife, lover and his partner. Then, I gave the honest truth about Moriarty, the brother I'd grown up with. I painted him for what he was. A dark, conniving, dangerous man. Sherlock's evil twin. I told them about the threats, the blackmail and how he'd even gotten into the jury's hotel rooms and blackmailed them, threatening their family and loved ones.

The whole time, I maintained a composed stance, but I couldn't keep the passion out of my voice. John gave me a subtle thumb up when I finished giving my testimony. But the opposition had one question for me, a question that caused my heart to stop.

"If Mr. Holmes, as you claim, wasn't a fake, why, did he kill himself?" I stood there momentarily frozen in place. Everyone was stunned at the cruel, insensitive way that the lawyer had spoken to me. "He was intelligent enough; he had a beautiful wife who loved him. You 'claim' he was innocent, but yet he jumped and threw all of that away. Can you tell us, why would an innocent man commit suicide?"

My lawyer jumped up. "Objection! My client has lost her husband. This is hard enough for her."

"Sustained."

"I want to answer that question." I inhaled and found the strength inside me. "I can answer because I know the answer." I leaned forward slightly. "I asked myself why he'd jump from the second he hit the ground. After…wracking my brain for hours, screaming to the heavens for hours, cursing his name, did I realize that the answer was obvious, right in front of me." Tears filled my eyes and I wiped them away. "I know Sherlock Holmes and according to those who knew him, I knew him the best of all. I'll never forget the first time I met Sherlock Holmes. We weren't formally introduced, our meeting, it was…an accident. I don't know who, surprised whom more when we met. It shouldn't have happened. It shouldn't have happened. It truly would have been better if it hadn't happened. For I….killed Sherlock Holmes." Everyone murmured. "Sherlock jumped to protect me. Moriarty had warned me if Sherlock and I married, that Sherlock would be in danger. As you noticed, Sherlock talked me into marrying him anyway." I shook my head. "Moriarty made good on his promise, _he _killed Sherlock. Sherlock didn't kill himself, I don't know why, but I do know, that Sherlock never thought of anything other than helping people. He was especially protective of me. You can question anyone who happened to see us together; they'll tell you that it was a beautiful thing to see. Sherlock cared about his work and he didn't consider himself a hero. He said once, "Heroes don't exist and if they didn't I wouldn't be one." He didn't even know the earth went around the sun!" Everyone laughed at that. "Now, you're all thinking, how could a man so intelligent not know something basic like that? When he explained why, to makes sense to me! Why? Because it doesn't matter! Can anyone come up with a solid reason why we need to know that the earth goes around the sun? No! Because it doesn't matter! Does it affect the way we live? Would we die without knowing that? No! People survived for years not knowing the earth goes around the sun! I'd find a human head in refrigerator because he was measuring the coagulation of saliva after death! _That _mattered! I didn't understand why, but in his line of work, he needed to know. His brain was his hardrive, and he wouldn't put anything inside that wasn't necessary. It wasn't really showing off. He just knew more than anyone else because he studied the things that no one thought about and held onto that information! He didn't care what people thought about him. If you thought ill things about him, you were an idiot and he hated idiots."

"So," the lawyer said. "if he was intelligent as you claim, why didn't he find a way out?"

"There isn't always a way out. If there were, we wouldn't have unsolved mysteries. I don't know why he couldn't get out of it, but considering Moriarty was against him, he must have thought up dozens of ways, but he probably realized that he was backed into a corner with no way out. He wouldn't jump, because someone thought something horrid about him. But if people's lives were at stake and he had to die so they'd live, he'd do it in a heartbeat. For all I know, maybe Moriarty had gunmen, ready to shoot everyone who he cared about down if Sherlock didn't jump."

"Interesting suggestion, but not logical."

"I was married to the man, I knew him._ Anyone _can be a Sherlock Holmes; we're just too stupid and ignorant to actually program our minds like him." I leaned forward and studied the man carefully, remembering little things that Sherlock pointed out. "He was my husband, so I daresay that some of his knowledge rubbed off on me. This is just a job for you. You ordinarily wouldn't be asking me such insensitive questions except judging by your state of apparel, I can tell you had an argument with your wife today." Everyone hooted and laughed at him. I followed Sherlock's advice. "You haven't had a chance to have breakfast yet; I can hear your stomach growling all the way from over here. Yet, there's flour on your shoulder, it's been brushed off so I wager that your wife threw something at you. Hmm, probably got tired of being the stay at home wife?" His jaw dropped in surprise and I knew I was right. "Your phone is on vibrate, but you haven't looked at it once. It's vibrated over twenty times. True, you're in the middle of a trial, but someone could be texting you evidence, yet you've ignored it. But no, you don't look at it because you know who it's from, but you're avoiding the person. Your wedding ring, you took off your hand and you left it on the table by your papers. A happily married man would either put the ring their pocket to keep it safe or they'd be glancing at the ring, twisting it on their finger. But no, you left it on the table, for all you care it could get stolen or swept to the ground. I'd even go a step further to wager that she'd been cheating on you as well. Am I wrong?"

The man glowered at me for a long time before admitting. "No." I exhaled and sat back in my chair as the whole room erupted into cheers and applause at my deduction. "No more questions!" he shouted above the noise.

The judge ordered that silence prevail once again and I shakily made my way down from the stand. I almost collapsed in relief, but I stayed up on my feet. John then made me take my vitamins and drink a whole glass of water and some orange juice. I _hate _orange juice. Then Max was called to the stand, no one dared to breathe as Max told the whole story. He was a very special boy; he paid attention to even the smallest details. As he spoke, he drew everyone in, including myself. His words clearly proved what the world needed to know, Sherlock hadn't been involved and Moriarty was the one behind the whole thing. This was an open and shut case. Everyone impatiently waited for the judge to make his decision. It didn't even take long. 'The Sun' lost their case and everyone shouted and screamed.

I leaned forward and cried into my hands. "We won Sherlock." I breathed quietly. "We won."

John wrapped an arm around my shoulder. "He'd be so proud of you Tammy. I can't believe you actually noticed all that!"

"He was my husband John, I learned from the best."

"Mrs. Holmes?" I looked up to see Max and his father standing beside me.

"Mr. Brule," I stood and shook his hand. "it's an honor to meet you." I wiped my eyes with my spare hand. "I'm sorry."

"I understand."

I looked down at Max, he was a curious boy. I extended my hand. "Thank you so much. You really helped clear up things."

"I was glad to help." He proclaimed. "He saved my life."

I nodded. "It's what he did best." I turned and reached into my bag, pulling out Sherlock's hat. "This…is the hat that Sherlock first wore." I smiled sadly. "He grabbed it to avoid the press and I know for a fact that he wished he hadn't grabbed it. He called it all sorts of names. Death Frisbee. Ear hat. That hat." I laughed inspite of myself. "He always called it 'That Hat,' as if it deserved a title."

Mr. Brule said. "I thought he looked good in it."

I nodded. "Me too. He was a very, handsome and striking man. The photographs don't do him justice, but, his eyes were amazing. The photographs messed the lights up. His eyes were a blend of three different colors. Blue, green and gold." I placed the hat on Max's head. "Now, I know he'd want you to have it. Pay attention to things, I wager you're a real curious boy, aren't you?"

The father groaned. "Don't ask. Hiding Christmas presents have become an art with us."

I laughed. "Sherlock was the same. Picking and hiding them was hard enough, I swear he could see straight through the wrapping paper! I had the most difficult time getting him to shut up!"

Suddenly, I heard someone shout and scream. I looked up just in time to see a gunman breaking into the courtroom. I pushed Max to the ground as the gun went off! A sharp pain exploded alongside my head and I flew backwards as another pain struck me in the shoulder.

I hit my head on the ground and stars spun before my eyes. I tried to sit up, but John forced me back on the ground. He tore off my coat and called for an ambulance. I smiled. "Nice to have a doctor on the scene."

"Don't talk. They hit an artery." I turned and looked at all the blood gushing out of my shoulder. I looked aside and groaned. "You've got to get out of here for a while Tammy. It's not safe for you to be in London anymore."


	2. 2: Not a day goes by

Chapter Two: Not a day goes by

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><p><em>Months later,<em>

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><p>I was bored to death. I now see how Sherlock had gotten a thrill out of shooting holes in the wall. The idea was <em>very <em>tempting to me right now. I was moved into a private suite in the hospital, given maximum security while waiting for my body to recover. The gunman was shot dead in the courtroom. There were no obvious connections, but I suspected he was one of Moriarty's men, wanting revenge. And what better revenge to get me for smearing his boss's name than killing me in my moment of triumph?

In the hospital, I spent most of my time learning Sherlock's phone and I'd become an expert at it. Like the man, his phone was complicated; all sorts of files hidden within special places. I found voice recordings as well, some were recorded during our honeymoon. He recorded every letter that he ever read to me.

Once I was allowed to be discharged, Mycroft had me flown out to the Holmes house. It had maximum security and its location was completely confidential to the media. Mr. and Mrs. Holmes tried to keep me happy, but I wasn't in the mood to be consoled.

I tried to keep busy so I could keep my mind off Sherlock, but of course, that wasn't to be. Not a single day went by that I didn't think of him, for even in death, he was still a major part of my life and he wouldn't go away. That was my fault, because I desperately held onto every little thing of him I could hold onto, mentally and physically. I wanted to let go of him as the months went on for the sake of our baby. I wanted to try to forget him, but I just reaching out for a ghost that wasn't there and dying inside when I realized that he was gone.

Mrs. Holmes was such a sweet woman. She alone seemed to know and understand the depth of my emotions. She climbed into the attic and had all of the family photos and videos brought down for me to view.

Sherlock was an adorable looking baby! I could just imagine him glowering down at me from heaven as we looked at all those baby photos. You could see that he was a troublemaker; he hated having his pictures taken. He always made a face, or rolled his eyes the moment the picture was taken.

The videos were especially lovely to watch. I could see the rivalry between Sherlock and Mycroft growing up. Mycroft was the friendly one, and Sherlock was off in a class by himself. Sherlock, even at the age of ten, was a very, very, serious kid. His room was always a mess; he was always asking questions, obnoxious questions that were a bit much for a parent to handle.

There were several memorable Sherlock incidents. On Mycroft's fifteenth birthday, he was shouting at the camera that Carl Powers had been murdered and they needed to get their faces out of Mycroft's cake and pay attention to him! Needless to say, he was sent to bed without dinner after that incident! He was a confident teenager, even though he was a loner. He didn't have a girlfriend and he hadn't gone to prom because according to him it was an unnecessary thing. One would wake up the following morning and be tortured by memories of a thousand stupid things that one had done the night before.

John evidentially knew the case and Sherlock was able to solve that case many years later. Evidently, Moriarty had murdered Carl Powers and it was odd to see how their history went back so far together.

John was the shoulder I leaned on when I needed comfort or words to share. If I had been alone, I probably wouldn't have had the strength to get up in the morning. We got to know each other better; I hadn't realized how rude I'd been to John. But it seemed like from day 1, Sherlock was the man on my mind, heart and head. John was just the man in the background. He was a really, really, wonderful man. Jane Austen had said that the only way to get a man like Mr. Darcy was to make him up. I think that she would have been impressed enough with John's character to write a book about him. His kind, gentle manner was so refreshing and I actually felt somewhat happy around him, when we weren't talking about Sherlock, which wasn't often.

John and I actually began contacting people, asking for details about how they'd met Sherlock, so we could put the cases together in a book. It was going to be a huge book, but it would definitely grab people's attention. All things considered, who _wouldn't _want to read about Sherlock Holmes? And it was written by us, the two people who knew him best of all, so it would be honest and truthful.

Mycroft was entertaining. He had a great sense of humor and he always brought me back an occasional little trinket to amuse me. Sometimes it was a box of candy, a puzzle to solve or he'd bring back the details to a case for me and I'd have to solve it. Of course it was all ready solved, but it occupied my mind. There was something wrong between Mycroft and John, but I had yet to figure out what it was.

I was almost full term when John made the grand announcement to me that I was carrying twins. That shocked everyone, but no one was more shocked than I was, but I was overjoyed. Now, I would have two wonderful children to remember Sherlock by. After that, I made an extra effort to maintain a positive attitude all the time. Mrs. Holmes kept buying me bright and fun maternity clothes to wear. Unlike most mothers who couldn't wait for their baby to be born and their figure to go back to normal, I just wanted to see how much our children would look like him.

But things, when you're a Holmes, are never normal. It was November and I was about two and a half weeks away from giving birth when things took a turn. I was on my back, stretched out on the couch, reading 'the book.' And when I mean 'the book' I mean the book of love letters that he'd read to me so often. It had become a habit of mine to read a letter every morning right after I woke up and one right before I went to bed. I had experienced some mild cramping this morning, but John had assured me that it was normal.

I groaned and set the book aside as I tried to stretch out my back. "Stiff?" I sat up to see Mycroft walking in; he was holding a box of Angelo's breadsticks, which ordinarily would have set my cravings in motion, but not today. I hadn't been hungry much today at all.

I nodded. "Yes." I stood up and approached him. "I can't wait to hold the babies."

"Do we know what sex they are yet?"

I shook my head. "John hasn't convinced me into having an ultra sound." Mycroft laughed. "I know, it's silly, but I have a doctor here with me, I'm under close supervision and I don't think it's necessary. I'd like to be surprised. "

I cracked my neck and Mycroft winced. "You are stiff. Turn around." I did as he asked and I felt Mycroft slowly begin to massage my neck. "Goodness, did you sleep on concrete last night?"

I laughed. "Just my bed. It's not so comfortable anymore."

"Yes. Another reason to have the babies, you can get a good night sleep."

"Babies and sleep don't exactly qualify in the same sentence." Mycroft hit a certain spot and I moaned. "Oh, I like that."

He murmured. "I can tell."

I groaned as Mycroft massaged my back. I closed my eyes and let my head loll back slightly. "I like that." I murmur as my mind flashes back to my wedding night. The fingers are firm as they continue massaging my shoulders. "Don't stop. Please." I can see his face before me now. Those eyes, intensely staring deep into my face. A shiver runs down my spine, then, I feel a set of lips on my neck and my body trembles. "Sherlock." His name escapes my mouth before I can stop it. "Sherlock."

The lips pause on my neck and the hands stop. My eyes open and I realize that I am not with Sherlock anymore, I am with Mycroft. I step away, not wanting to look him in the face. Why had he done that? I was Sherlock's wife! Well, his widow! And my husband had been his brother! I'm a few weeks away from bearing his child! And he…he, well, I hadn't helped things any. I bit my lip and looked down at the floor.

"Say something Tammy." Mycroft said quietly. "Anything."

"I-I, I'm sorry." I murmur. "I thought you were….him. Please, excuse me." I turned and walked towards the library door. "So sorry. That…shouldn't have happened, any time."

"Those babies of yours," I paused with my hand on the doorknob. "have you considered what you're going to do when they're born?"

I wouldn't look at him, I had to get out, and I was being smothered. "I don't see why that's any concern of yours. I can take care of them."

"Those children of yours are going to need a father." Something in his tone caused me to stop. "It would be so nice to keep them in the family."

I froze, dead in my tracks as his words sunk in. his tone, had a very, very suggestive note and it wasn't completely lost on me. Sherlock had been upset at Mycroft's advances and his words of warning flooded my ears. I spun around and stared at him. "Are you….proposing to me?"

"Don't act unintelligent Tammy; you take after my brother at times. Of course, I'm proposing to you!"

My mouth dropped open and for the longest time all I could do was shake my head. "Mycroft...I-I can't. I'm sorry. I'm not free of Sherlock, and…I don't want to be, just yet."

"Tammy, you always were a bit dramatic. But think reasonably about this, you were only married to Sherlock for four months." His words slashed me mercilessly. "I know you loved him, but it's not as if you were married to him for ten years." I shook my head and turned aside. I was so surprised that I couldn't think of a single thing to say. "You really should look ahead to the future. I can protect you, your children and we could live a very comfortable life together." I paused, his words actually started to make sense. "You're a very practical person and when you don't talk yourself into mourning for Sherlock, you seem to forget him. You need to think about what you're going to be doing in a year. You have to think about your children." He stepped towards me. "It's a small chance Tammy, but I do believe that I could make you happy if given half a chance."

I couldn't move, I was so stunned, I didn't know what to do. Only when Mycroft touched my face, did I wake up. His hand was cold, like his proposal. "I can't Mycroft. I'm sorry." I whirled around, opened the door and promptly smacked into John.

"Whoa," he said steadying me. "easy Tammy." His eyes narrowed as he took in the emotions of my eyes. "What's wrong?" I jerked my head in Mycroft's direction, not daring to speak for fear I'd start crying. He looked at Mycroft. "What did you do now?"

"Nothing that concerns you." He smoothed his coat. "It was a private discussion."

"You upset her."

"It doesn't concern you." Mycroft repeated. "It was business."

"He…proposed to me." John's eyes flashed he let out a shout as he launched himself at Mycroft! "John!" I gasped as John tackled Mycroft and began punching the daylights out of him!

"You bastard!" He shouted. John dropped a few other words that were so out of character for him that I didn't know what to do!

I stood there in shock before waddling as fast as I could into the hall. Mrs. Holmes was coming. "Tammy? I heard a shout."

"John and Mycroft." I said. "They're fighting!"

Her eyes flashed and she stomped into the room. Both men were still shouting and hitting each other. Well, John was hitting. Mycroft was not a fighter and John had been a soldier. Army doctor, but a soldier nonetheless. "Stop this at once!" She shouted and everyone stopped breathing at the tone of her voice. "Now! Get up and stop acting like animals! Honestly! In front of Tammy?" John yanked his coat into place, giving Mycroft a venomous look. "I don't know what happened to cause the two of you to go off the handle."

"Mycroft," John spat out angrily. "proposed…to Tammy."

Her mouth dropped open. "Mycroft! You didn't!"

"I did." He said as he held his nose back, John had delivered another one of his world famous bloody noses. As near as I could tell, Mycroft had a swelling eye and jaw. John, his face was unscathed except for a scratch. "It was for the best."

"I suppose that's what David said to Bathsheba after killing Uriah!" John shouted. "Have you no shame?!"

I stared at him. "What are you talking about?"

"You don't need to know." John said. "This is between Mycroft and I."

I studied both men. David had coveted Bathsheba and had Uriah, sent to the front line of the battle so that he'd be killed. After Uriah had died, he took Bathsheba for himself. But why would John say that? My heart stopped in my chest. No. It couldn't be what John was implying.

"John…did Mycroft….have something to do with Sherlock's death?"

"Not intentionally." Mycroft said.

"Ha!" John laughed bitterly. "Your own brother and you blabbed about his entire life to…Moriarty!"

I gasped and covered my mouth as Mycroft glowered at John. "I told you that I never intended for it to go that far."

My mind was reeling, but it caught up with him. "That's how Kitty knew everything. You told Moriarty?!" I screamed. "How could you!? Your own brother!? You turned him in?!"

Mrs. Holmes grabbed ahold of my shoulders. "Calm down Tammy." but anger resonated in her voice. "What did you do Mycroft?"

"Moriarty was the most dangerous criminal mind the world has ever seen, we interrogated him for weeks, but we couldn't make him talk." He explained calmly. "He wouldn't play along. He just sat there, staring into the darkness. The only thing that made him open up I could get him to talk."

"In return for Sherlock's life story." John spat. "Moriarty wanted Sherlock destroyed, right? So, how do you sell a lie? You wrap it in truth!" He shouted. "You gave him everything!"

"Mycroft!" Mrs. Holmes shouted. "How could you!?"

He genuinely looked sorry, but I wasn't going to forgive him. "You handed Moriarty the ammunition!" I screamed. "It's your fault that Sherlock is dead! Why didn't you just put a bullet through Sherlock's head!? It would have been less painful! You forced him to die! You killed him! After all he did for you!? He gave you Adler's phone on a platter and you repay him by, giving information to his enemy!? I guess no good deed goes unpunished!"

"Tammy, calm down." Mrs. Holmes said firmly. "This isn't good for you."

"I can't calm down!" I screamed. "And you _propose _to me?! I hate you Mycroft!"

"Your actions earlier indicated otherwise."

"I thought you were Sherlock!" I screamed. "I thought you were him! I thought you were Sherlock! My husband, the love of my life." My words struck a chord with Mycroft and now he actually looked ashamed. "I don't care if I was only married to him for four months. Does that mean that I love him any less?! I love him still!" I shouted. "I loved your brother and nothing in this world would even tempt me to marry you! I'd marry a corpse before I married you!" At that moment, a huge cramp seized me and I screamed as I grasped my stomach. "Oh God!"

Mrs. Holmes gasped. "Your water broke."

"No." I shook my head as John hastened over to me and braced me. "No! I am not having my children here in Mycroft's presence!"

"You don't have a choice Tammy." John said as he guided me to a chair. "You were having pains this morning?" I nodded. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"I thought they were normal! I've never had a baby before!"

"Calm down." He said. "Let's get you to your room."

"Sherlock's." I said as they led me out of the library. "I want to be in his room."

"Tammy."

"I want to be in his room!" I shouted. "He's not going to be waiting for me to hold his children. I want to be in his room when I have his babies."

"Ok, Tammy." John soothed. "Just calm down, start your breathing. Mycroft, go to my room, and get my bag, don't touch anything inside it!"

Mycroft took off running up the stairs and we crept towards Sherlock's room slowly. Each pain nearly caused me to double over with each step. Mrs. Holmes helped me into a nightdress while John prepared the bed.

I concentrated on breathing while John examined me. It was extremely embarrassing for me but I was glad it was John instead of a stranger. After the examine, John shook his head. "Tammy, there's no time to get you to a hospital, your pains are too regular. Your babies are going to be born here. Annette," he was talking to Mrs. Holmes. "Tammy is going to need several cold cloths and water bottles. Do you mind asking someone to fetch them?"

"I'll see to it myself!" She said. "Not going to let the servant's handling this! They're incompetent as it is, and these are _my _grandchildren we're talking about."

I wanted to laugh at her, but I was in too much agony. "This is my fault." I moaned. John gave me a shot of something to dull the pain. "I shouldn't have yelled."

"No. It's Mycroft's." He said firmly as he massaged my back. "He shouldn't have proposed and brought this whole thing into light."

"You knew!" I pointed out. "And you didn't tell me!"

"I was going to tell you, after the baby was born." He said. "But it's been killing me not to tell you."

"I believe you. Oh!" I screamed as another pain hit me hard. "John!"

John held my hand and squeezed it as the pain hit me. "It's ok Tammy, just breathe. I won't leave your side until it's all over. I promise."

"Don't promise me anything!" I shouted. "Promises mean nothing! Sherlock promised he'd never leave me!"

"All right, then I give you my word that I won't leave you." Mycroft came in with John's doctor bag; John took it from him curtly and pointed to the door. "Get out. Now."

Mycroft nodded. "I am sorry about this Tammy."

"Get out of my sight!" I shouted. "I swear, I'll kill you with my bare hands!"

Mrs. Holmes took ahold of Mycroft and pushed him out of the room. "Out! I am going to have a talk with you and so is your father!"

I screamed as another pain hit me and John winced slightly. "Sorry." I said through clenched teeth. "It hurts!"

"You have a low tolerance for pain." John said. "But, do mind your vocal chords, you are a singer, remember?" I nodded and he smiled as he placed a cold cloth on my forehead. "Now, try to relax. And let's bring Sherlock's babies into the world together."


	3. 3: Move on

Chapter Three: Move on

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><p>I don't care what anyone said. The movies never, ever, truly hit onto what giving birth felt like. The agony was unbearable and the drugs never truly had time to set in. Poor John, I must have been the hardest delivery he'd ever had. I screamed, shouted, cried and even called Sherlock's name in the end. But then, once it was all over, I held Sherlock Hamish Holmes and Linda May Holmes in my arms. It's strange, how this sense deep, powerful and protective love sweeps over a mother the first time she holds her child in her arms.<p>

I was flown out to Bart's just as a precaution. John assured me that I was fine and my two babies were fine, but I should have a specialist check me and the children over. He could deliver a baby, but since I'd refused an ultra sound or anything like that, it would be wise to have a specialist examine me. I was too tired and happy to argue with John.

I was given a private suite, with guards outside my door again. I waited patiently for the doctor to come in; John said a friend recommended him and that he was highly professional.

Sherlock jr. favored his father in features, but he had my eyes and my hair color. Linda, she had her father's eyes, and she was animated, like her father. Sherlock jr. was content to sleep while she let out a wail. "Shh," I soothe as Linda begins to cry. "it's ok." I begin to sing quietly. Don't know why I picked Taylor Swift's 'Never grow up' but it suited the mood.

_Your little hand's wrapped around my finger and it's so quiet in the world tonight. Your little eyelids flutter cause you're dreaming, so I tuck you in, turn on your favorite nightlight. To you everything's funny, you got nothing to regret. I'd give all I have, honey, if you could stay like that. Oh, darling, don't you ever grow up. Don't you ever grow up, just stay this little. Oh, darling, don't you ever grow up. Don't you ever grow up, it could stay this simple. I won't let nobody hurt you, won't let no one break your heart. And no one will desert you, just try to never grow up, never grow up._

Someone taps on the door and I whip my head around to see a man standing in the doorway. He was a doctor and I noticed that second of all. Widow or not, I was still a woman and the fact that he was a man caught my attention first. He wasn't tall like Sherlock; I wager that with my heels, we were almost the same height. His build, though slender, was muscular. He had a winning smile and warm, hazelnut eyes. Those were the first things I noticed about him. He had quite a head of brown hair that was stylized rather nicely. He had attractive facial features. But to get back on track, I could tell right off that he was a good doctor and he cared about his patients.

"Hello. I'm Charles Walker." He walked over to me and sat down beside me. "I'd shake your hand but your arms are very full."

"Yes."

"I apologize for standing there, but I didn't want to disturb you. You've the voice of a siren; you'll sing them into silence easily." He held out his hand for Linda. "May I?"

"Yes, of course." He took Linda carefully, making a few little cooing noises. I smiled as Mr. Walker and I sat together, each holding a baby. "She's a sweetheart isn't she?"

He nodded. "Aren't all children?"

"Until they grow up." I looked down at Sherlock jr. "And if he turns out anything like his father, I'm going to crazy when he's five!"

He nodded. "Ah, yes. You were married to that detective, weren't you?" I nodded. "Fascinating man, I followed Dr. Watson's blog about him until your husband passed away. Please accept my condolences."

"Thank you." I blew a stubborn strand of hair out of my face.

"Allow me." Charles brushed the hair back out of my face. He had a gentle touch and I smiled at his touch. He smiled back too, seeming to have difficult time focusing on the job at hand. But when the nurse walked in, he cleared his throat, and resumed a professional stance. "So, Mrs. Holmes, shall we get on with the exam?"

I nodded and he examined me first, he was a doctor, and it should have been impersonal, but it wasn't. There was this…recognition in the air. His touch and eyes kept causing to me to jump and become aware that widow or not, I was still a woman.

He reached for Linda and the nurse took Sherlock jr. "I'll have them moved to the nursery, but as near as I can tell, Dr. Watson did a great job bringing little Linda and Sherlock into the world. I'll have to do a few tests though, standard procedure."

I nodded. "I understand."

"If all goes well, I see no reason why you can't go home tomorrow Mrs. Holmes."

"Please call me Tammy. After all, you're my doctor."

"All right…Tammy. But, only if you call me Charles."

I nodded. "All right…Charles."

He smiled broadly. "I shall see you in the morning then. Dr. Watson is outside, are you too tired to receive him?"

I shook my head. "No. Send him in, please."

"All right." He and the nurse walked out of my suite. "She'd like to see you Dr. Watson."

"Thank you." I smiled and waved at John as he walked in. "Hey. How are you doing?"

"Fine." I tapped the corner of my bed. "Aren't they beautiful children?"

John nodded. "Very," his eyes saddened slightly. "they look like him, don't they?"

I nodded. "Yes." I bit my lip and answered. "John, what do you think…Sherlock would think if I were….to…remarry?" His brows rose and I added hastily. "I haven't met anyone yet, but, it…crossed my mind. I'm not going to remarry out of necessity, but, for love of course, as I married Sherlock."

John was silent for a long time. He leaned back, rubbing his brow thoughtfully before saying. "I think…he'd want you to be happy."

I ran my hand over his. "You too John. He wasn't selfish in that way."

John squeezed my hand. "So…is, today the day we…move on?"

I nodded. "Yes John. I just gave birth to two children. I can't afford to wallow in my tears and grief anymore. You aren't going to have me to protect and look over." I bit my lip. "Tomorrow, I move back to Baker Street."

John's head shot up. "Are you going to live there?"

I shook my head. "Only for the time being. I need to find new accommodations." I exhaled. "I'll pack up Sherlock's items; put them in storage, for I don't have the heart to get rid of them just yet. Maybe I'll give Sherlock's things to his son."

"That's good." John cleared his throat and looked at his watch. "You need to rest. I'll stop in tomorrow."

"Oh, where is the rest of the Holmes clan?"

"Probably outside admiring Tammy and Sherlock."

"I bet Mrs. Holmes was happy."

"She's been as peppy as a jumping bean. Oh," John smirked. "your father-in-law went as far as reporting Mycroft to his superior about leaking private and personal information that cost someone their life. He's currently being suspended from his position."

My mouth dropped open. "You're kidding!"

"I am serious! I never knew what Mr. Holmes thought of you, but he must think very highly of you to report his own son like that."

"Or," I reasoned. "he wanted his son to get a taste of what it feels like when your life is falling down around you. Just like he did to Sherlock."

* * *

><p>The following morning, Sherlock, Linda and I were given a clean bill of health. I hadn't seen Charles, so I pushed him out of my mind and John and I left the hospital. Mrs. Holmes had bought me a new set of clothes to wear so I didn't have to wear my maternity clothes. She told Mrs. Hudson to expect me and she invited Molly over to the flat to see the children.<p>

"Tammy!" I spun around to see Charles running behind me, his white coat streaming from behind him. He tripped on the steps but caught himself.

"You must have made an impression." John murmured.

"Shut up John." I muttered. He snickered as Charles approached, smoothing his hair back into place. "Hello."

"Hi." He cleared his throat. "I, er, uhm, didn't get a chance to say goodbye to you."

John discreetly walked down the steps, holding onto Linda to flag down a taxi. I flushed. "I'm flattered…you remembered me."

"I doubt if it'd be possible for me to forget you." He reached into his pocket and handed me a card. "Here's my number. Call me if you need help with anything."

I hesitated. "I have John."

"Right! I meant…most mothers are a bit….nervous about their children."

I looked at the card. "Do you proposition most new mother's like this or only the single ones?"

"No!" He ran his hand through his hair and shifted uncomfortably. "This is _not _going well." He inhaled and exhaled. "I know that you've been a widow for…eight months?"

"Seven." I said. "I loved my husband very much."

"I know that." He exhaled and ran his hand through his hair. "I-I'm doing this badly aren't I?"

"Yes." I smiled at his discomfort. "But it's rather endearing watching you trip over your feet so to speak."

He chuckled. "Sorry, I know this is a bit awkward for you, but it is for me too. So, why don't we just…be friends and see how things go in a couple of years? I'm not asking for a romantic attachment or anything connected romantically, but," he groaned. "oh, I'm not sure how to describe it."

But I knew exactly what he was trying to say. "Let's just say," I replied quietly. "that there's….obviously something here."

"Yeah," he looked at me, studying me. "so…you felt it too? It wasn't just me, was it?"

I shook my head. "It wasn't." Biting my lip, I held my hand out for his card. "I'll consider it, but I can't promise anything. I mean…John should get out more and he shouldn't think of himself as my protector."

Charles nodded. "Yes, he's been trying not to notice your nurse Mary and failing miserably." He reached into his pocket and handed me a piece of scrap paper.

"What's this?"

He smirked. "Her number. And put his mind at ease, she's definitely interested in him."

"How do you know?"

"Mary kept asking me about Dr. Watson. She's single, I don't think she's ever been in a relationship, but then it's up to the man to make the first move."

"How'd you get her number?"

He laughed. "No problem. I'm a doctor, I have my resources."

"Of course." I glanced at John, who was waiting patiently. "I should go."

He took my hand and squeezed it in a friendly manner. "I'll be waiting to hear from you."

"All right."

I turned and walked down the stairs, with Charles beside me, helping me down the stairs. He helped me into the cab and adjusted Sherlock's baby blanket. He had a pout on his face, and I couldn't help but wonder if he was mirroring his father's expression as he peered down at me from Heaven.

"Have a safe trip." Charles said with a smile. "I'll hopefully see you two around later."

I smiled. "Indeed. Goodbye."

Charles closed the door and I handed John, Mary's number. He frowned. "What's this?"

"Mary's number."

He stared at me. "Mary's number? How'd you get it?"

"Charles gave it to me."

"Charles gave it to you." He shook his head. "Mike says that he's one of the most dedicated specialists at Bart's. He's always socially active, but he always shows up at every single event alone."

I frowned. "Why are you telling me this?"

John shrugged. "Just…looking out for you. After all, I was Sherlock's best man."

"Indeed you were. In more ways than one." Sherlock let out a wail and I laughed. "And you are definitely going to take after your father aren't you?" Not to be out done, Linda let out a loud wail and she held it. I laughed and glanced at John. "Which one is going to be more trouble do you think?"

"Well, I'll say this." He said. "Linda is more animated, but considering that Sherlock is going to take after his father, I think that you're going to be up to your ears in trouble." I laughed. "And one word of advice, I saw Sherlock's feet and don't bother buying him shoes."

"Why on earth not?"

"Because, he's going to have huge feet and he's going to be outgrowing them before you know what hit you. You'll save time and money simply by making him wear the shoe boxes!"

"Well, he's got a big set of shoes to fit into hasn't he? His father's. So it's appropriate that he'll have big feet." I smile as I kiss his forehead. "Grow safe and strong young man, the world will need your brains in many years time from now." I kissed Linda's forehead. "And you...you've got many hearts to break in time. Try not to break the ones closest to you."


	4. 4: A chance

Chapter four: A chance

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><p><em>A month later,<em>

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><p>Linda and Sherlock filled every moment of my day, keeping me busy. The nights were the hardest for me. I missed waking up with Sherlock beside me. I missed his touch, his scent, his kisses and his voice. I actually missed finding a hand in my refrigerator because he'd run out of room in his. I didn't really have time to cry at night because it would always wake the children. Mrs. Hudson was always happy to help with them, because it gave her such joy.<p>

John and I didn't really talk much anymore, except to work on Sherlock's biography. He was really falling in love with Mary and at times it was hard for me not to envy him his happiness. Mary was a strong supporter. She slowly brought the glow of happiness back into John's life. As for me, I didn't have or know anyone who could make me smile again.

"Tammy?" I spun around to see Charles Baker walking briskly towards me.

My jaw dropped. "What are you doing here?"

I hadn't expected to see him again. I had his number and we'd become friends on Facebook. I never really spent much time on Facebook prior, but I began to look forward to talking to Charles every afternoon on his lunch hour. If he had the evening free, we'd talk for hours.

He pointed behind him to the guitar he had slung over his shoulder. "I was taking guitar lessons a block away. I was walking up to the street to get a cup of coffee." He peered into the pram. He smiled as he moved Linda's blanket back so he could get a better look at her face. "She has the most dazzling eyes."

"She inherited them from her father."

"I see."

I glanced at his guitar case. "So, you play guitar?"

He nodded. "I do."

"Are you any good?" I asked.

He shrugged. "My teacher thinks so."

I smiled. "I'd like to hear you sometime."

"Why don't we…get a coffee together?" He asked. "Then maybe I could play a song for you?"

I bit my lip. "I actually, don't like coffee, but, if you offer me a cocoa, I'll take you up on it."

"Right. One cocoa and a coffee coming up." He picked up his guitar and walked alongside me. It was a very warm day for the middle of October, so it would be all right to sit outside. I still couldn't believe I was doing this. I was actually having cocoa with someone other than Sherlock. We started to pass by my club and I stopped for a moment, studying it for a moment. "You were a real good singer," Charles said. "I used to stop by on the days I didn't work the nightshifts."

"Thank you." I exhaled. "I just…never really found my heart again, after loosing Sherlock."

"Would you…like to go in for a minute?" he asked. "I know that's it's not open this early, but, maybe you'd like to visit it?"

"No, I thank you for the thought." I shook my head. "Not until I actually feel like singing to someone other than my children or his ghost."

"All right." He didn't push me and I was glad. We found a sunny spot in the outside courtyard; Charles surprised me by pulling out my chair for me. Sherlock began making noises and he reached for him. "Allow me." I nodded and rubbed my eyes. "You're tired." He observed. "Are you getting enough sleep?"

"I think so." I shrugged. "Some days are worse than others." The waiter took our order and I surveyed the restaurant Chardonnay. I smiled. "I've heard of this place, but I never actually got to go inside it."

"Who told you of it?"

"Sherlock." I smiled sadly. "It was actually quite funny, how he brought this place up."

"What happened?"

"Well, it was my opening night at the club and, my ex-boyfriend had showed up. Sherlock was in the audience and he saw my ex-boyfriend enter the club. When my ex made…advances towards me, he pretended that he was my new boyfriend." I bit my lip. "He kissed me, for the first time, during the game. And, I think that's when we first recognized that…we actually cared for each other. Up until that moment, we'd argued and ignored all the signs of attraction between us." I was silent for a moment and Charles was quiet, letting me find words again. "He then deduced that my boyfriend had shagged one of the waitresses on the back wall in the alley before coming to see me again."

Charles rolled his eyes. "Now _that's _a stupid thing to do."

"And then he tried to deny it!"

"That guy was an idiot, but I guess it worked out for you. He gave you and your husband the right nudge to happiness."

"He did." I bit my lip. "Look, Charles, I'm not sure where this is going. I really, really should warn you that I am not over my husband's death."

He nodded. "I'm aware of that."

"I don't think that…I could love anyone, the way I loved him. In fact, I still love him."

"I know that too."

"You're a really, really, wonderful man and I don't want to hurt you. I just thought you should know where you stand and frankly, it's on very shaky ground."

He arched one brow and smiled. "I'll just have to keep my balance and mind where I step then won't I?" he stood up and placed Sherlock back with Linda. "Everyone takes a chance once in their lifetime; I'm taking mine on you."

I exhaled. "Sorry, I can't give you more of a chance."

"Hey, you're being honest." He pointed out as he sat down. "That's a start, from here on out, if I get hurt, it's my fault. You warned me, loud and clear. And you haven't succeeding in scaring me off."

I smiled and shook my head as he reached for his guitar case, moving it out of the way so the waiter could set our drinks down. "So, how long have you been playing?"

He shrugged. "About fifteen years."

"And you're still taking lessons?"

"I taught myself by ear growing up, but I recently started taking lessons this year to improve."

"Are you any good?"

Charles reached for his guitar case, opened it and pulled the guitar out. "You tell me."

He strummed his guitar once, checking to make sure it was in tune. "You're going to play in public?"

"Why not?" he shrugged. "You're here, I'm here, I've got my guitar and I don't know when I'm going to see you again. So, I might as well take advantage of the moment."

Charles bent his head over his guitar and began playing 'If I fell' by John Lennon. I wasn't a huge Beatle fan, but I did love a few songs of theirs, and I especially liked that one. I studied Charles; I could tell by his intense and dedicated expression that he was a music lover. He lived the music, like I did and he really was good. Unlike Sherlock, he was very humble and didn't like to give himself airs.

The song ended and Charles set his guitar in his case. We were both silent for a moment, but he was the first to speak. "I better go. If I stay here a moment longer, I'm going to be sorely tempted to kiss you."

I licked my lower lip. "I'm flattered by your honesty, but, you don't have to go. Just…don't kiss me yet." I coughed lightly. "So, what other musical talents have you hidden away?"

"Well, I write songs, but, no one wants to publish them."

"Bring some over, and I'll sing them, see what kind of reception you get."

"No thanks," I frowned. "I appreciate it, but, I'd like to make it on my own. And I don't want you to think that I'm interested in you just because you could give my career a musical boost."

I smiled. "I understand." I glanced at my watch. "I should go home now."

"Can I walk you home?" he asked politely.

I hesitated. "I don't want to take you're out of my way."

"It's no trouble." He assured me. "If it were, I wouldn't have offered." He slung his guitar over his back and nudged me over. "Here, let me push."

"Thank you." I walked alongside him for a while in comfortable silence before I started asking him questions. "So, were you ever married?"

"No, I was engaged once, but I broke it off. And in answer to your silent question, I realized that our love just wasn't deep enough to last." He glanced at me. "Your ex-fiancée, why'd you break up with him?"

"He was cheating on me."

"Idiot." At my frown he said. "You're an unusual woman, the kind that's hard to find. Any man would be a fool to cheat on you when someone like you is hard to find."

"It feels like everyone puts me on a pedestal." I stopped in front of Baker Street. "This is where I live."

"You aren't on a pedestal Tammy; you have a high moral sense that's so rare these days. Whether you intend to or not, you influence and aspire everyone around you to be like you." I flushed and he stepped back. "I'll let you go. I've monopolized you long enough."

"It was fun Charles, really, it has been."

"Maybe…we can meet again sometime."

"I'd like that." I said. "Call me later tonight….and we'll set something up later in the week?"

"All right. And if you can't find a baby sitter, don't worry about bringing Sherlock and Linda along." he grinned. "I love taking care of children, no matter what the age!"

I smiled. "All right."

As Charles walked away, I pulled the stroller carefully up the steps, barely jostling the sleeping babies. It was almost time for me to feed them, so they'd be waking soon. The door opened behind me and Mrs. Hudson was there. "Tammy," she said. "here, let me help you."

"I'm fine Mrs. Hudson. Really."

"I was going to go out and help you, but I wasn't sure if that young man who was talking to you was going to come in or not." I stiffened. Mrs. Hudson was being polite, but I didn't know what she'd think about me seeing someone. "He seems like a nice man Tammy."

I nodded. "He is, but-

"He's just not Sherlock?" she finished for me. I nodded. She exhaled. "No one could be Tammy, that's the problem. When one we love dies, we know there could never be another to take their place. Sherlock," she shook her head. "he wasn't like _anybody_!" I laughed. "I'm not saying replace him, but, do try opening up a little bit. You're young and I know Sherlock wanted you to be happy. You don't have to marry him if you don't love him. But, I think he'll do you some good," she ran her hand along my mouth. "he made you smile. I've been waiting to see you smile."

"I smile Mrs. Hudson."

"Sad smiles, this was a genuinely, happy smile. I don't know if it'll work out for you two, but if he brings you out of your depression, see how far you can go."


	5. 5: All of me

Chapter five: All of me

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><p><em>A few weeks later,<em>

* * *

><p>I was scared; I was going to be sick. It had been almost a year since I'd been on a date and I'd had two children during that time. However, Mrs. Hudson and the saleslady both insisted that I looked fine. I personally think that the saleslady just wanted to make a sale and was willing to say anything to get me to buy this dress.<p>

Charles and I had been going out with the kids several times a week and this was our first official date. He'd invited me to go with him, as his date, to a black tie event with dancing and dinner. I'd had to go out and buy a formal evening dress. It was a two-faced dress. The front of it was dramatic and appeared modest, but the back of it was sexy and daring. I felt a little ill at ease about the back, but it was better that people look at my back than my stomach. I was certain I was never going to loose the few pounds that I'd gained.

"Nervous?" Charles asked as he helped me out of the taxi.

I nodded. "Yeah."

"Hey, don't worry."

"What if someone recognizes me?"

"Then I'll chase them off."

I made a face. "That won't be much fun for you."

He laughed as he took ahold of my arm and walked me upstairs. "I always have fun with you. Things are always very interesting around you."

I shook my head. "I don't know why you put up with me."

"Because I'm crazy about you. And you could use a night out."

I nodded. "Yes, I rarely get a night out now, thanks to the twins."

"I guess you won't be opening up your club anytime soon."

"Oh, I don't know." I shrugged. "I've been thinking about knocking out a wall in my dressing room, converting it into a nursery and hiring a trustworthy baby sister. I'll have Mycroft screen them personally." I exhaled. "The only thing missing in my life is my job and since I met you, I've realized that going almost a year without singing has been a hindrance in my healing process."

"Singing meant a lot to you. Everyone who watched you could tell." He said. "Most cabaret singers want to be noticed; you just want to have fun."

I nodded as he helped me out of my coat. "And now that I've been having fun again, I might start singing again." I turned to see Charles staring at me. It wasn't a lustful stare, it was adoration and I blushed as I brushed my hair back. "What?"

He shook his head. "You…surprised me; you always dress so…conservatively."

"I couldn't find anything that didn't attract attention to my…front. This one makes one notice my back."

He nodded. "It certainly does." He walked up to me and looked around. "I guess, I shall have to mind my hands won't I?"

I shrugged. "It's ok, I'm a widow, remember? Nothing can surprise me."

He nodded. "Yes, but I can still respect you can't I?" He took ahold of my arm and we walked into the ballroom.

It didn't fail my notice how most of the women looked up as Charles's name was announced, but their looks were looks of shock. I guess John was right when he said he often arrived alone. I wondered what things I'd learn about Charles tonight and I hoped there was nothing unsavory for me to find out.

Charles, mindful of my nervousness, introduced me to his many colleagues simply as Tammy. Dinner was nice, simple and elegant, but the chef couldn't hold a candle to Angelo in my opinion. Unfortunately, two women who were avid tabloid followers figured out who I was and our private table began to get swarmed. Charles was better at politely getting them to leave us in peace. But he couldn't stop the rumors that start flying across the ballroom that _the _Tammy Holmes was here with Charles Walker. I wondered what was going on in their minds. Was it too soon for me to be out on a date with someone else? How long would it be before the media found out and began pressing either of us for news?

After dinner, Charles pulled me onto the dance floor, with an apologetic face. "I am so sorry Tammy."

I smiled. "Don't be, if anything it's Sherlock's fault, and mine, that I can't go around in public anymore."

He shrugged. "I should have at least thought of an alias name for you."

"People aren't as stupid as they appear, unfortunately. They recognized me from the tabloid magazines, remember?" He laughed and spun me around. I then realized that Charles was dancing an actual waltz. "You're actually dancing ballroom. You know how?"

He nodded. "Yeah, my mother was a professional dancer. She made me learn everything."

"Did you enjoy dancing?"

He made a face. "Not until this moment."

I laughed. "You're such a smooth talker."

"Smooth dancer." He said as he began waltzing me around the dancer floor. We made quite the picture, waltzing through every couple that was slow dancing. "I see you know how to dance as well."

I nodded. "I'm a firm believer in it takes two to dance."

"Indeed." He said as he dipped me backwards. "Care to show off a bit?"

"Definitely."

And we did show off! Charles lifted me, spun me in triple turns and did some advanced ballroom moves. Bit by bit, people cleared the floor, giving us more room to watch us. I couldn't hide the flush of pride from showing on my face. It had been many years since I'd danced and I'd certainly never had the opportunity to dance like this with Sherlock. But I shook that thought out of my head as Charles lifted me up in the air, turning as the music ended. Then, he dipped me backwards and I lifted my foot high in the air. Charles righted me and hugged me as the music ended.

I laughed. "That was fun. I loved it."

"I loved dancing with you too. My best partner since my mother died."

"Ladies and gentlemen," I turned around towards the announcer. "we have a celebrity among us." I turned around and looked around the room. "Mrs. Tammy Holmes."

Applause filled the room and I blushed. "Great." I said through a forced smile. "So much for keeping a low profile."

"Those familiar with Mrs. Holmes will remember her as a radiant nightclub singer before her marriage. Perhaps, she could be persuaded to give us a song tonight!"

Everyone applauded and I made a face at Charles. "I've got a funny feeling this was rigged."

He held his hands up innocently. "Not me, I swear. But go on, I've been dying to hear you sing."

"So when I do you'll fall dead on the ground?"

"If you want me to."

I shook my head and climbed up onto the stage. The bossa nova band that was entertaining us, was preparing to play 'All of me' next, so I decided to sing that one. I bent my knees a bit, flung my hair back and began to 'smolder' as I called it. Most people would say I was seductively purring into the mike.

_All of me, why not take all of me? Can't you see I'm no good without you? Take my lips, _I ran my fingers over my lips, slowly._ I want to loose them. Take my arms,_ I wrapped them around my waist, swaying my hips from side to side._ I'll never use them! Your goodbye,_ to my ultimate dismay, Sherlock's face came to mind._ left me with eyes that cry, cry, cry. How can I go on dear without you? _My eyes watered a little and I looked upwards, blinking them away. _You took a part that once was my heart. _ _So, why not take all of me?_

I climbed up onto the piano, bracing myself on the piano player's shoulder. I channeled my inner Michelle Pfeiffer and 'melted' onto the piano. _All of me, why not take all of me? Can't you see I'm no good without you? Take my lips, I want to loose them. Take my arms, I never use them! _I stretched my hand outwards towards the ceiling. _Your goodbye, left with eyes that cry. How can I go on here without you? You took the best so, why not take the rest? _There was a tone of anger in my voice. Sherlock and I had such a musical connection that even now, he dominated the music. He had left me _nothing _that didn't remind me of him. Was I never to have a moment's peace without him disrupting my sanity?_ Come on, and take all of me! Baby take all of me._

I looked down at the ground, blinking away tears. The moment the applause rang throughout the building, I put on a mask of happiness and swung my legs off the piano. I bowed and curtsied as if nothing were wrong. I got off the stage, ignoring requests for an encore and I walked up to Charles.

He was applauding, but he stopped when I got within distance to pull me into a hug. "You were wonderful!"

"Thank you." I closed my eyes and surrendered to his embrace. I was desperate to remove Sherlock from my mind. I had to banish him from my mind!

_Tammy will you marry me? _

I jumped and spun around, my eyes wide. "Tammy," Charles asked. "what's the matter?"

I inhaled and exhaled rapidly. "I'm sorry."

"What happened?" He guided me off the floor towards our table. He handed me a glass of water. "Here."

"I'm fine." I assured him. "I-I just had a flashback. I'm sorry."

Charles nodded understandingly. "What happened with you and Sherlock during this day?"

"Nothing, but," I bit my lip and confessed. "we got married on Valentine's Day. That's next month you know and I guess that I-I was just…hearing things."

Charles was silent for a long time, and then he said. "Then out of respect for him, I won't kiss you or buy you chocolates or roses."

I laughed and wiped my eye. "You're sweet Charles."

"It's because of the amount of chocolate I eat."

"And funny."

"It's the way I comb my hair."

I shook my head. "And you're patient too."

He bit his lip. "I'll have to think on that one for a bit."

The rest of the evening was good. Charles kept me laughing and Sherlock didn't dominate my mind once after that. Charles was really good and I admired how he seemed interested in Sherlock, he never changed the subject. He was genuinely curious about the man I'd been married to. He didn't pry, waited for me to reveal what I wanted to about Sherlock. It felt good to talk to him.

It was almost 11:00 when he walked me home. He stood outside the flat door, uncomfortably rubbing his hands on his sides. "Well, goodnight Tammy. Sleep well."

"You to." As he leaned forward to hug me, I murmured. "If you want to kiss me… you may."

I held my breath as he placed his hands on my waist. He paused and studied me. "Are you sure?"

I nodded as I placed my hands on his shoulders and inhaled. He took one step closer, then another when I didn't react. I inhaled and tilted my face up expectantly towards his. My heart was pounding as he leaned forward and kissed me gently; or it was supposed to be a gentle kiss. I stood on tiptoe, leaned closer, and met him halfway. I wrapped my arms around his neck as he gently pulled me closer and his arms grew tighter around my waist. He wasn't passionate like Sherlock. But while passionate kisses definitely get a lot of views on youtube, it was the sweet and gentle kisses that were truly memorable.

Gently, he pulled away from me, and for a moment, we couldn't think of a word to say. So I settle on some neutral words to speak. "Good night Charles."

"Goodnight Tammy." he opened the door for me. "Will I see you again tomorrow?"

I hesitated and turned towards him with a soft smile. "Now you have to." Charles smiled broadly as he closed the door behind me. I smiled and stepped inside the flat, my eyes glanced towards the mirror on the wall. I was smiling and I definitely had a glazed look in my eyes. "Yes," I said quietly. "I think I could very well be falling in love Charles Walker."

At that moment, my head was flooded with my marriage vows. _"I take you as my husband, and will give myself to no other."_

I could see Sherlock's grinning face before me. "_I'm holding you to that."_

"_I insist."_

I hit my head and swore. "Stop it!" I begged. "Stop it!" I hadn't asked to live inside Wuthering Heights, but I was. Like Heathecliff, I was being driven insane by the memory of someone who had died long ago. "Set me free Sherlock." I begged. "Please. Set me free."


	6. 6: A tribute to Sherlock

Chapter six: A tribute to Sherlock

* * *

><p>A tap on my dressing room door caused me to jump. "Come in!"<p>

Charles came in with a broad smile. "Hello! I just came back to wish you luck."

I gave him a hug. "You came out here just to see me open up! That was sweet of you!"

"Your opening night, how could I miss it?" he studied me. "How are you, are you doing ok? You look tired."

I exhaled. "I'm just…nervous."

He didn't believe me. "Rough night yesterday?"

I nodded sullenly. Yesterday had been Valentine's Day. True to his word, Charles had given me my space. He hadn't sent me roses, chocolates, or even a single text message. Mrs. Hudson and I'd stayed up, watching my wedding day on video. Sherlock, darling Sherlock, it brought tears to my eyes to see him again.

The man behind the camera was brilliant; he knew exactly where to be. He'd zoomed into Sherlock's face as he said his vows to me. I held my breath as my heart had pounded in my chest as I relived the moment he'd spoken them to me.

"_I used to be afraid of falling in love, of giving my heart away. How could I trust a woman to love me, to give to me all that I wanted to give to her? Tammy, when I met you, I realized how much we could share together. And that would be right from the moment you said that you were pleased to meet me, and you so obviously weren't. You have renewed my life and I love you. Today, I join that life with yours."_

The kiss, oh, it had been so beautiful then, and it looked just as beautiful on the screen. It was definitely worthy of an Oscar. Sherlock had teased me into the kiss, taking his time, making me hungry for more kisses. I didn't doubt his love for me in that moment and actually seeing his face again reassured me that he truly did love me. The eyes were the windows to one's soul and I saw his soul in that kiss.

Nothing got past this cameraman and I made a special note to thank John when I saw him. He filmed Sherlock and me sharing our one plate of food. He even got filmed Sherlock dipping my finger in the frosting and sucking it. Heat clenched in my stomach as I watched his face. The moment where we serenaded each other was especially spell binding.

When the video finished, Mrs. Hudson and I were in tears. They were different tears though; they weren't tears of complete pain now. They were tears of remembrance and longing now. I ached, but my heart wasn't broken anymore. It was repaired, stitched and glued in multiple places. Some days, bits of blood leaked through the stitches and the glue didn't dry. Other days the glue held and the stitches became nerves of steel.

"Tammy?" Charles said. "Ready?"

I shook my head. "Yes." I reached for 'the rose' that Sherlock had given me and inhaled once and exhaled. "I'm ready now."

I hadn't told Charles, but tonight was a tribute to Sherlock. I'd also changed my stage name to Tammy Holmes and just for tonight, I'd perform all the songs we'd shared together. Charles kissed my cheek. "I better go. Good luck!"

I nodded and pressed a kiss to the rose before walking out on stage. I received a tremendous amount of applause and I knew that I'd made the right choice in coming back. I missed the stage and the audience obviously had missed me.

"Thank you. Thank you ladies and gentlemen." I cleared my throat. "I'm so glad to see that in the time I've been gone, that my fans remembered me, inspite of my surname having changed." I bit my lip. "Tonight, is a special and, it may be somewhat difficult for me. Yesterday would have been my first wedding anniversary." Silence reigned in the club. "And we all know the circumstances that prevented yesterday from being my wedding anniversary. So, when I was arranging the show, my anniversary was on my mind. And, I wanted to do something special. Dr. John Watson and I are currently writing up Sherlock's cases and we intend to publish them." Everyone applauded and I waited for everyone to stop before continuing. "So, tonight, I'd like to sing some songs that meant so much to Sherlock and I. I'll give you some background history about what was going on between us at the time. So, tonight, I'd like to dedicate to this show to a great man, my husband, Mr. Sherlock Holmes."

I opened with Sondheim's 'You could drive a person crazy' and then I moved through so many songs that brought back pleasant and unpleasant memories. 'Sooner or later,' 'My boyfriend's back,' 'When a man loves a woman,' 'He's got a way,' 'I hate you, then I love you,' 'Other lady,' and 'The moon's a harsh mistress'. I barely made it through our song 'She's always a woman' without breaking down in tears. I couldn't sing my song for him, 'A sorta love song' it was strictly for him. But I did 'A woman in his arms', 'I break so easily,' 'October weekend' 'Finishing the hat,' and 'Laughter in the rain.'

Then, I got the chapter in our life, I'd been dreading. Sherlock's suicide. I was able to lead off strongly with 'No finer man' but my heart began to sink as I sang 'Every day a little death,' and I decided to finish with Stephen Sondheim's 'Move on,' it was an unusual choice. But for me, it was as near as I could imagine what Sherlock would tell me, if he were here. I'd rigged up a slideshow to complete the picture.

_Stop worrying where you're going, move on! If you can know where you're going, you've gone! Just keep moving on! _I turn back to see a photo of us on our wedding day. _I chose and my world was shaken, so what? _I throw my hands up in the air. _The choice may have been mistaken, the choosing was not! You have to move on! _

I walk over to the piano, so I can't see the photos anymore. I'd placed a photo of Sherlock on the piano, so he wasn't completely far from my line of vision. _Look at what you want, not at where you are, not at who you'll be. Look at all the things you've done for me. _I smile as I run a finger over Sherlock's face. _Opened up my eyes, taught me how to see, notice everything, understand the light, concentrate on now! _

_Move on! Move on! _I look back at the photos now flashing through him hard at work on crime scenes that I'd taken in secret. _Stop worrying if your vision is new. Let others make that decision, they usually do! You keep moving on! _I smile as the photos begin to go through every headline with his name._ Look at what you've done and at what you want. Not at where you are, where you'll be. _My heart catches on the headline that shows his death. We had a difficult time finding any headlines that didn't call him a fake. _Look at all the things you gave to me. Let me give to you, something in return, _it pauses on the headline that announced where I'd won the court case. _ I would be so pleased. And the color of your eyes, and the way they catch the light. _The photos turn personal, showing my favorite photos of Sherlock and me together. We didn't have many together, and i never realized how few until i put this slideshow together. _And the care and the feeling and the light! Moving on! _It cuts to the video footage of Sherlock and me on our wedding day. _ We've always belong together! We will always belong together! Just keep moving on. _Then, the footage went to my favorite part. _Anything you do, let it come from you, _it showed the devoted Sherlock fans on his website, obviously learning from what he'd left behind._ then it will be new. Give us more to see_

The applause stirred me and I stood up, bowing to the audience. The applause was long, hard and thunderous. I wasn't allowed to leave the stage until the applause from my standing ovation had died. I immediately scurried back to my dressing room to see Linda and Sherlock.

My hired nanny, Amy, was watching them. She smiled and stood up when I entered the room. I immediately knelt beside Linda's crib, lifted her up and gazed into her eyes. "Could I have some privacy please?"

"Of course."

No sooner had she closed my door, did the tears flow. Sherlock thumped his hands on the crib, letting out a distressed gurgle. Linda patted at my face, at my tears, causing me to smile. "Sorry." I exhaled and went over to Sherlock's crib. "I know, you two hate it when I cry don't you?"

A bang on the door caused me to jump. "Tammy?" It was Charles. "Can I come in?"

"Yes." I sniffled and wiped my eyes as he opened the door. I smiled and handed him Linda. "Can you hold her for a minute?"

"Yes." His eyes narrowed. "You're crying."

"A little." I sat down and began to repair my makeup. "So, how was I?"

"Beautiful." Charles placed Linda back in her crib. "Enchanting, inspirational, haunting and sad." I reached for my comb as Charles knelt beside my chair. "Move on, was beautiful, very moving." I looked away. "Now, don't look away."

"I feel like such a heel." I confessed. "After all this time, I just can't forget him."

"Well, yesterday would have been your first wedding anniversary. I can imagine he was on your mind a bit." I looked down and leaned my head against his chest. "I could see it Tammy, I could feel it. Now I'm not jealous or anything, just a little worried about how I'm supposed to compete with a ghost."

I shook my head. "This sounds like this movie called 'Laura' where this man falls in love with a woman who's been murdered."

"How does it end?"

"Turns out it was all a mistake. She was never really dead. They live happily ever after."

"Are you hoping that he's still alive?"

"Why do you keep asking me questions about him?" I asked. "Most people wouldn't ask questions about their 'rival' even if they were dead."

He was quiet for a moment. "Because it's easier to talk to a stranger than it is to family."

"You're not a stranger and I don't have any family, except for Linda and Sherlock. Jr. that is." I confessed. "I miss him so much."

"And its right you should. You knew him for almost two years and were married to him for four months. You two saw each other almost every single day, that's almost like being married before he actually had the ring on your finger. He was your best friend before your husband. Sure, you can talk to Mrs. Hudson and John, but they're grieving too. I'm the only one who can give you a fresh perspective on life. You refused therapy, and you find solace in your music and talking to me."

I looked up at him and smiled. "Do you know what I hate about you?"

He laughed. "What?"

"The fact that you know exactly what I'm feeling. It unnerves me and pleases me at the same time." I leaned forward and kissed his cheek. "Thank you. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Charles leaned forward and kissed me on the mouth. It wasn't a demanding kiss, but I could taste the passion that he was restraining for my sake. He wasn't going to break my heart by moving too soon. I smiled against his lips and I was still smiling as we broke the kiss.

He ran his hand down my cheek. "I don't know what I'd do without you either."


	7. 7: Andersen cannot be right

Chapter seven: Andersen cannot be right!

* * *

><p><em>Six months later,<em>

* * *

><p>One must reconnect with problems in the past, so you can move forward in clean conscience. At least that's the story that goes around, but it was easier said than done. I was meeting John at his new flat. We were going to be going over the final touches for our manuscript for Sherlock Holmes: Behind the man, mystery and the mask. Sappy title, but it made sense to us. Sherlock was definitely a man of mystery and I was the only one privileged to see behind his mask. It was a huge book and very entertaining, even if I do say so myself.<p>

John had moved out once things started developing with Mary so he could be closer to her. Mary was a sweet lady, she had a wonderful laugh and even if she simply walked into the room, John would smile. It was a little hard for me to see two people happily in love. Sure, I had Charles, but our relationship hadn't advanced like that. Charles and I were exploring, John and Mary were in love. I wagered in a year or so, John would be proposing to Mary and she'd accept him.

As I stood in the pub, waiting for them to give me my lunch order, I heard the voices of two men who I hadn't heard since the trial. "A breakaway sect of Buddhist warrior monks infiltrated by a blonde drug smuggler?" I spun around at the sound of Greg's voice. "That never really happened!"

He was talking to Andersen, but not the Andersen I remembered. He had a beard and his hair was unkempt, as were his clothes. He must have gotten fired from his job, but as to what it was, the suggestions were endless.

I turned my back to them so I could avoid detection. "A blonde drug smuggler who was exposed by an abbot with unusual powers of observation and deduction!"

Greg snorted. "A blonde woman hiding amongst bald monks? That wouldn't exactly take Sherlock Holmes!" At the mention of Sherlock's name, my head shot up and my ears were instantly alert.

"Well," Andersen commented. "perhaps it did."

"He's dead." Greg reminded Andersen. "I'm sorry. I wish he wasn't for Tammy's sake, but he really is dead and gone."

"Well," Andersen asked as he pulled a world map towards himself and points at a spot on the map. "how do you explain this? Sighting number two, incident at New Delhi."

Greg is stunned. "You haven't been titling these?"

Andersen nodded. "I have."

"I read about that case. Clever man, Inspector Prakesh."

Andersen isn't convinced. "Working out the depth to which the chocolate flake had sunk into the victim's ice-cream cone?" He snorted. "What police inspector could have made that deduction?"

I bit my lip. That _was_ unusual for a police inspector. I couldn't have figured it out. Maybe this police inspector could. But….it _definitely_ had Sherlock's style to it. But, he was dead. He had to be. I'd seen his body hit the ground, I'd seen the blood and I'd attended his funeral. I hadn't heard from him afterwards. I hadn't seen him either, except for those dreams of mine.

"Oh, thank you!" Greg said, clearly insulted.

"You remember how Sherlock never took the credit when he solved all of _your_ cases?"

Greg was now indignant. "He _didn't_ solve all of my cases!"

At this point, I couldn't remain silent anymore. I turned towards and walked towards them. "He didn't solve all of them; he just solved _most_ of them." Both men jumped and stared at me. "Hello." I said evenly. "Long time no see."

"Tammy?" Greg stood up and hugged me tightly. "How have you been?"

"Fine."

"I am so sorry I haven't been by to see you." He pulled back and studied me. "We met on such shaky terms last time."

I nodded. "I don't blame you Greg. You had no choice, I see that now."

"How have you been? Have you been all right?"

"Yes." I said. "But I am rather curious as to why you are discussing my departed husband, in a pub, with Andersen."

"He's not dead." Andersen said, causing me to jump. "He's out there. He's hiding. But he can't stop himself from getting involved."

I shot him a frown and tried to give an impression that I was calm and collected. "What do you mean by that?" But his words made sense; I remembered Sherlock right before we took on the Baskerville case. He'd solved a case and an hour later, he was going crazy! But this was a recent case he mentioned, Sherlock couldn't go this long without solving a case. He'd have died of boredom. His job as a consulting detective was one he made up because all the other jobs were boring or beneath him.

"He thinks Sherlock is alive," Greg explained. "just because of some recent cases that have been brought to light. They're a little unusual in nature."

Andersen chuckled. "It's so obviously him, if you know how to spot the signs!"

"The Klein Brothers, the Tower House thing, the Kensington Ripper," Greg said as he sat back down in his chair. "I solved all those myself!"

Andersen smirked. "Well, you got Tower House wrong."

"No, I didn't!" Lestrade's voice went high at the end of his protest.

"Yep, you did. Okay, sighting number three." He points to another spot on the map. "The Mysterious Juror." Greg groaned and he dropped his head to the table in front of him. Frankly, I don't know why Andersen was being so insistent about Sherlock being alive. He hated him more than anyone else. "It had to be him! There's no one else it can be! Do you not see?"

Greg groaned. "I see that you lost a good job fantasizing about a dead man coming back to life, and I know why you want that to happen. But it's never gonna. I'm sure out of everyone in the world, Tammy would want it to be true, but it's not." Anderson shakes his head in denial. "Okay," Greg downed his glass of beer. "I'm gonna go and see an old friend. You take care, okay?" He stands and picks up a box from a nearby stool. "I'll put a word in; see if they won't review your case."

But Andersen wouldn't give up. "Just look at the map, though." He draws an imaginary line from New Delhi to Hamburg, to Amsterdam, and then Brussels. "He's getting closer." He looks up at Greg. "It's like he's coming back."

At this point, I loose my temper. "Brilliant Andersen!" I snap, sounding a bit much like Sherlock. "You never did have enough brains to pour water out of a boat!"

"Now, you wait a minute."

"No, you wait a minute!" I shout at him. "Sherlock is dead!"

"But just look at-

"I am looking!" My voice rose with emotions that I thought I had buried deep inside me. I pulled out my phone and showed them a picture of Sherlock and Linda. They were almost nine months old now. I thrust my phone at them, showing them the picture of them playing with their blocks.

Their eyes widened in shock. "Oh God." Greg groaned in sympathy. "Tammy…are they his?"

I nodded. "He had the kindness of getting me pregnant with his children before dying." I stated. "Look at that Andersen. What do you see? I'm looking at two children who are going to grow up having never known their father! John brought them into the world without him there! Not once, during or after my pregnancy has he contacted me and I was his wife! No man, not even Sherlock Holmes, would be cruel enough to fake his death, not send a word to me to ask if I was all right after I'd gotten shot defending his name! He didn't ask me for pictures of our two children when they were born! John delivered them and Sherlock didn't text me to see how I was! And I know that we all agree that he wouldn't be sitting by quietly while I go out with another man!" Greg and Andersen jumped. "I've moved on, and it's time you do the same! Sherlock is dead! He's been dead for a year and a half now!"

"Tammy."

"Count the months! I was married to him for four months before he jumped. I was a month pregnant when he jumped and I had Linda and Sherlock Jr., almost seven months later. Now, they're eight months and he hasn't surfaced. If he were alive, he would have surfaced for my sanity and for the sake of our children. Think about that Andersen!"

I grabbed the food bag the waiter had left on the table for me. I stomped out of the pub and Greg followed me. "Wait a minute Tammy." I stop, exhale and rub my eyes. "I'm sorry Tammy."

"So am I." I turned to face him. "I can't believe I just did that. I thought…I was over raising my voice in public like that."

"You were upset, as you should be. He shouldn't have insisted that Sherlock was alive. It's been hard for you, and I'm glad you're trying to move on. Sherlock wouldn't want you to be unhappy."

I shook my head. "So everyone's been telling me. But then he has the audacity to haunt my head and dreams all night and day."

"It'll go away. So, you had a boy and a girl?"

"Yes. Sherlock Hamish and Linda May."

"Lovely children."

"Thank you Greg."

"You said they're almost eight months now, so, what are they like?"

"John says they're very advanced for their age. They're crawling everywhere and can walk with my support. Tammy plays 'peek-a-boo' Sherlock, of course, thinks it's ridiculous and prefers to explore the flat. He's not very patient and hates the word 'no' if I tell him not to do something, he'll sit and sulk. He's a pouter, like his father. Linda loves music; she's always trying to sing and gets very frustrated because she can't. "

He laughed. "It sounds like you're very busy. I hope you're getting enough sleep."

"I am. Mrs. Hudson is a great help and she loves babysitting during the day. She never had children, so it gives her pleasure, makes her feel like a grandmother." I straightened. "I should go. I'm going to visit John."

"I'm going that way too. I have to give him this box actually, so I'll walk with you." I nodded and Greg took my arm and guided me down the street. "So," he asked casually. "this other man…what's he like?"

"Charles? He's a really nice guy, you'd like him."

"Am I going to meet him sometime?"

I nodded. "You probably all ready have. Charles Walker, he works at Bart's."

"Oh yes. I have met him, quite a few times; he seems to be a nice man."

I nodded again. "Very nice."

"You still miss him," Greg asked gently. "Sherlock I mean?"

I bit my lip. "Sherlock was the greatest man I never knew. But I can't dwell on the past. I have to think ahead now, I've got two children."

"Tammy," Greg stopped. "wait a minute and hear me out." I stopped and looked towards him. "Now, I may get out of my depth here, but I think you should hear it. As you asked me to walk you down the aisle, it does give me a bit of a right to give you some fatherly advice. If you're seeing Charles because he'd make a great father for your children, break it off." I stared at him. "If he's honestly filling up the hole that Sherlock left in your heart, that's great, but please, be sure that you're in love, not lonely. I look at you and...I just don't see it. You and Sherlock...I watched you two shape each other and the love you had for each other, I do not think you can share it with another. True, he may propose and you may accept him, but I do not think you'll marry again."

"You're probably right there. I do care about Charles, and there is something between us, it was clear the moment we met. He's respectful and he makes me laugh. He's kind, gentle, sweet, honest, sensitive, clever, well mannered and very considerate. But-

"But what?"

I looked down and admitted. "He's so different from any man I've ever known. He's never laid an ungentlemanly hand on me, I mean, Robert tried and Sherlock," I snorted and rolled my eyes. "the moment we were a couple, he just….couldn't keep his hands off me. And when we married," I shook my head. "let's just say I was loved very much by him. You saw us at Baskerville, after a little playful recreation in the shower."

He laughed. "I remember. Sherlock was mad because you were discussing his rather passionate advances." His smiled faded. "And, how is it when you're with Charles? Is he-

"We're not intimate in any way. He kisses me frequently, holds me close and it's…great." I admitted honestly. "I could be very, very happy with him and most of the time I am, until…something like this happens. Then I become the defensive 'Mrs. Holmes' all over again. I remember...everything. The way he made me feel, the heat, the passion, the burning desire inside me. But...he's gone and I need to remember that." I exhaled and brushed my hair back from my face. "That chocolate flake that Andersen was talking about, it seems like Sherlock, I admit that. But, if he were alive, wouldn't he tell me that he was alive? He was so clever; there are ways for him to tell me without anyone else knowing."

"He would." Greg rubbed my shoulder. "Andersen's imagination is running away with him. Don't you start believing it."

"I'm not." I said. "My head is saying not to but, my heart, I admit, is wishing that Andersen was right." I tossed my head and smiled. "But Sherlock did say that Andersen was the least intelligent person on the force! So, if it was real and it's obvious to Andersen, what does that say for the rest of us?"

Greg laughed. "I don't know!"

I joined in with his laughter, but my laugh seemed to catch in my chest. In spite of my head, my heart was urging me to go with Andersen's suggestion. But it was impossible. It had to be! He was dead! And I needed to accept it! Our anniversary was four months ago! If he were alive, he'd surely have tried to contact me!


	8. 8: Birthday excuses

Chapter eight: Birthday excuses

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><p>I tapped on the door to flat and John called. "Come in Tammy."<p>

"Hello John." I push the door open and hold up the food bag. "I brought lunch and a friend."

John smiled and stepped towards Greg. "It's good to see you, Greg."

"And you." They shake hands.

"Have a seat."

Greg sits down in the nearest armchair. "So, how have you been?"

John parks himself on the sofa "Yeah, good. Yeah, much better." Greg nods as John points towards the shoebox. "Er, so what's in the-

"Oh, that, yeah. That's some stuff from my office, some stuff of Sherlock's, actually." At the mention of Sherlock's name I walk into the living room. "I probably should have thrown it out, but I didn't know if-

"No, fine, yeah." John doesn't make a move, so Greg, stands up and retrieves the box."

"Yeah, there's -there's something here. Um, wasn't sure whether I should have kept it in." I stand beside Greg as he takes the lid off the box; there are few items inside. A pink phone, perhaps _the_ pink phone, a box of nicotine patches, a small piece of paper with writing on it, a toy train engine, a yellow face mask, and a DVD." You remember the video message he made for your birthday?" John nods. "Oh, I had to practically threaten him."

I ask. "What video message for your birthday John?"

John blinked. "You never found out?"

"No. What? What did I miss?"

John chuckled quietly. "You remember when you went to the London eye?"

"Yes. It was really romantic. Sherlock and I had dinner up there, we went dancing for about ten minutes and then we had a long walk."

"Well…it was my birthday."

I stared. "What? I missed your birthday? And Sherlock knew?"

John nodded. "Yes."

"Why'd he do that?"

"Why don't we let Sherlock do the explaining?" Greg said as he hands the DVD to John. "This is the uncut version. It's quite funny."

"Oh, right." John takes it and looks at it awkwardly.

"Maybe I shouldn't have brought it." Greg said.

"Don't worry its okay." John reassured him. "Probably won't even watch it."

"I'm glad you did." I said gently. "I find out something new about Sherlock every day."

The whole atmosphere was awkward now. Even after Greg left, John and I still couldn't find the words. After five minutes of silence, John said. "I need a drink." I don't say anything, I just watch as he calmly pours himself a glass of whiskey. He takes a drink and glances down at the DVD in front of him for a while. I hold my breath as he picks it up and looks towards the TV set. "Do you….want to see this?" he asked me hesitantly.

I nodded. "Yes. I would."

John gets up and puts the burned DVD into player. It loads and he walks back to get his seat. I smile as I take in the sight of the wall with that stupid, yellow, smiley face spray painted on the wall. I'd repaired the wall, so the smiley face and the bullets in the wall were gone now. All of Sherlock's clothes and items were in boxes. I'd decided to save them for Sherlock jr., who knows, maybe he'd grow up and take the place of his father. John sits down on the sofa opposite the TV and takes another drink. My heart jumps as I see Sherlock come onto the screen.

_Was that supposed to happen_, Sherlock asked. _the light going down? Yeah, okay._ I start smiling as Sherlock begins to pace back and forth, across the living room. Our wedding videos, he'd been so reserved, so now I was getting a view of the Sherlock that I'd fallen in love with. _So, what do I, what do I, what do you want me to do at the end?_ He stops and looks at Greg. _Shall I, um ...smile and wink?_ I smile and lean forward._ I do that sometimes. I've no idea why. People seem to like it….humanizes me, Tammy likes it._

Greg sounds completely bored. _Fine, whatever._

He starts to turn away, but spins on his heel and looks back into the camera. _Why_ _am I doing this again?_

I can't hold back my laughter as Greg explains patiently. _You're gonna miss the dinner._

_Of course I'm gonna miss dinner. There'll be people!_ He practically spits out the word 'people' as fast as one would spit out an insect inside ones mouth.

_I still think you should tell Tammy, I know for a fact she'd like to go._

_Yes, she would, but I'll tell her I forgot it was John's birthday and she'll never know what she missed._

_Until she sees this!_

_How is she going to find out?_

_She's your wife. Women have this sort of radar thing._

_Right. _Sherlock shrugged. _Then I'll tell her I just wanted an evening alone with her!_

_Oh, taking her out tonight?_

_Yeah. She wanted to see the London Eye, so I arranged a private dinner._

_Romantic._

_It is not romantic, I'm doing both of us a favor._ I covered my mouth and rolled my eyes. _She gets to see the London Eye and if we're having dinner there, we can't be having John's birthday dinner at the same time!_

"Louse." I mutter under my breath.

Sherlock starts to turn away, and then turns back. _How can John be having a birthday dinner? All his friends hate him. _I glanced at John and I'm relieved to see that he smiled at Sherlock's words briefly. _You only have to look at their faces. I wrote an essay on suppressed hatred in close proximity based entirely on his friends_. John smiles again and Sherlock pauses thoughtfully. _On reflection, it probably wasn't a very good choice of gift._

I turn towards John. "He didn't really give you that essay did you?"

John nodded and we looked back at the screen. I shake my head in despair Sherlock is musing again. _Tammy is probably going to have a lot to say on the subject._

_She's your wife, expect it._

_Oh that woman! I tell you Lestrade, she has the most interesting personality changes it's…really quite fascinating._ Tears fill my eyes and I bite my lip. _She has this utterly annoying habit of biting her lip and it drives me absolutely insane!_

I immediately stopped biting my lip. Greg laughed. _I know, my wife has a habit of biting the ends of her hair. She has no idea how adorable she looks every time she does it._

_Same here, it must run in all women. _Sherlock shook his head. _I tell you, every time she does, I swear I just have her that instant._ I blush red. _And she always obliges me, it's a wonder she's not pregnant with triplets yet. _I bury my face in my hands as every bit of my face, up to the tips of my ears burn bright. _She's just so...I-I don't know...I can't describe it. It's like...I need her all the time or life is very...dull. I've never felt that way about anyone before._

_Scary isn't it?_

_Very. Never understood it...feelings before. But...with her...I can and...she doesn't mind when I have to turn them off. She understands and doesn't demand anything. _ Sherlock's face went into a frown of confusion. _Why am I telling you all this?_ He looks into the camera for a moment before looking past it at Greg. _What was my excuse again?_

I laugh as Greg replies. _You said you had a thing._

_Ah, right, yes! That's right. A thing._

_You might wanna elaborate._

_No, no, no, only lies have detail._ Sherlock stares into the camera for a couple of seconds. _Right, I just ... I need a moment to, um, figure out what I'm going to do._

"I can tell you what you can do." John mutters as he lifts his glass to drink from it. "You can stop being dead." I nodded my head in agreement.

_Okay._ John and I are both startled, the way Sherlock managed to 'time' that perfectly. I rub my arms and glance at John. He doesn't say anything, but the exact same thing is on my mind as it is on his. _Okay, I'm ready now._ He sits down in his armchair and then looks into the camera. _Hello, John. I'm sorry I'm not there at the moment, I'm very busy. However, many happy returns. Oh, and don't worry, I'm going to be with you again very soon._

John's doorbell ring. He puts his glass on the table, reaches for the remote, pausing on Sherlock's face. John stands up and walks out of the room, allowing me a moment of privacy to wipe my eyes.

"Hello John?' It was Mary and I hear the concern in her voice. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah." He cleared his throat. "Greg er, um, brought some things of Sherlock's by."

"Oh, I see."

Suddenly, the video resumes playing and I look up at the video as Sherlock smiles into the camera and winks. I jump up out of my chair and turn off the obviously haunted TV. set. I turned towards where John and Mary are embracing. I stand up and move towards the exit. "I've got to go." I say quickly. "I can't do this today John. How about tomorrow?"

He and Mary didn't ask me any questions. They just nodded as I quickly hurried out of the room. As I walk down the street, my mind reeled and I actually began toying with the possibilities that he was alive. But again, my logic ruled my head, he couldn't be alive! I presented a dozen reasons why he wasn't alive and I couldn't conjure up one thing that proved to me that he was alive.

Suddenly, a bouquet of red roses falls from the sky, directly in front of me, landing at my feet. I jump and look upwards as a window slams shut. And while my impulse to investigate it is strong, I choose to ignore it. After all, I'd thrown dozens of roses out of a window before, so what was unusual about someone throwing roses out a window?

I turn and run all the way back to Baker Street. I'm coughing when I round the corner to find Charles bringing his hand up to knock on the door. His eyes narrow as he takes in my appearance. He vaults down the steps and hurries up to me when I launch myself at him. He wraps his arms around me, holding me tight as I cling to him.

"Tammy," he asks. "what's wrong?"

"One…of those days?"

"What happened?" He asked. "Can you tell me?"

"No." I shake my head. "Just hold me." I beg. "No questions. Please."

But then Charles, being Charles, he doesn't ask me any questions. He nods and holds me tighter. "All right, I won't." He ran his hand down my head and through my hair. "I'm here Tammy, I'm here."

And he was here. He was here for me and I'd been a fool to realize that he'd been here for me the whole time. I'd opened my eyes, now all I had to do was open my heart. In that instant, I made my decision. If Charles ever proposed to me in the future, I was going to accept him.


	9. 9: A weekend in the country

Chapter nine: A weekend in the country

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><p><em>Four months later,<em>

* * *

><p>I stared at Charles. "You did what?"<p>

He laughed. "I've arranged for a weekend in the country, at my aunt's house, for you, me and the kids."

I couldn't form a coherent thought. "How…why did you do that?"

"You need a vacation. You're tired and I thought it would be good for you. Are you pleased?"

_A weekend in the country_. _What a wonderful thought! _I laughed and hugged him. "It's a wonderful idea. Thank you Charles!"

It was a wonderful idea. True, it was December now, and it was cold, but that's what made it great. The forests were beautiful and there was a flowing river that hadn't frozen over. When we took the kids outside, it was actually a bright, sunny and moderately warm day. The nights were the bad part of the deal, it was chilly outside and I'd cough.

Charles thought of everything from firewood down to the smore ice cream. Every night, I'd read Shakespeare to the children, yes, I know they didn't understand most of what I was saying, but they needed some art in their life. Charles had bought them some classical music for them to listen to when they took their nap. He'd slipped into the father role it was rather endearing for me to see.

Linda and Sherlock were eating on their own now and they got most of the food in their mouth. Sherlock, when he first tried feeding himself, he'd throw the food all over his head in aggravation and I'd have to clean his hair. He didn't like his head being messed with, especially his hair. Linda, she was like me, bossy and independent. She'd always start these wrestling matches with Sherlock and then cry when he bit her!

Charles, he was a great father figure. I'd walk in on him and find him showing the children books, or he'd play the guitar for them. Both children were avid admirers of that guitar of his. Linda had a tremendous fondness of the song 'Pooh corner' he'd sang it to her once and she immediately demanded "More" in a very loud voice. They were starting to talk now, but it was only one-word sentences.

Charles sang it to her before she went to bed and she slept soundly. The children slept in the same room as me and Charles slept in the guestroom. I was so pleased that he'd kept everything respectable for me and I was glad. Once the children went to bed, he'd get the ice cream and we'd watch a movie together, huddled under blankets, on the couch. Unlike Sherlock, he didn't criticize the movies or predict the plot. It was when we were watching Yentl that I realized that I was possibly falling in love with Charles. It became especially obvious when Barbara Streisand began singing 'Will someone ever look at me that way?' I glanced up at him; he was rubbing his hand repeatedly down my shoulder, gazing intently at the screen. As if feeling my gaze, he looked down at me, unblinking. We didn't say anything, but he must have known exactly what I was feeling.

The following morning, as Charles was helping me wash the dishes, I could tell that there was something on his mind, he wasn't sure how to say it. "Something on your mind?" I asked him, giving him a little prod.

"Yes."

"What is it?"

He shifted uncomfortably. "I'd like to suggest something, but…please let me finish, before you take my head off."

I nodded and handed. "All right, I'm interested, but I can't guarantee that I won't take your head off in the end."

He laughed and cleared his throat. "Once we return, I'd like to propose," at the word 'propose' my head shot up. The plate slipped from my hand back into the soapy sink water. "that….we move you, and the twins, into my suite." _That _I hadn't been expecting. My mouth dropped open in shock. "Now, I'm not suggesting anything improper. It's a large suite. There are two connecting rooms and there's a third room. You could have the two connecting rooms, make one into a nursery for the twins, and personalize one yourself. I could have the guestroom and," he clapped his hands together. "that'd be it."

I nodded and managed to get my dry mouth going. "I see…and…what's brought this around?"

He cleared his throat. "Actually, I've been thinking about it. I've got this…huge suite and it's rather, well…empty. It would be practical, for…us to share the suite. We could…monitor the children. I could watch them during the night when you're at the club. My shift, as you know, is a daytime shift, except in your case that is." I nodded. "And I give you my word that…I won't try anything…ungentlemanly."

"If you did, I just nod to John and he'd shoot you between the eyes."

He chuckled. "It's just that….things have been so-

"Perfect?" I offered.

"Yes! And you and Sherlock lived one flat above each other. This would be the same thing except the walls are….horizontal instead of vertical."

I chuckled. "Horizontal instead of vertical? Charming Charles." Sherlock threw his bottle down and I turned to go get it. "How about the rent?"

He shrugged. "I don't have to pay it until January."

"I see. So, would we split the rent?"

"Actually, if you wanted, I'd pay ¾ths of the rent."

I stared. "How come I only get to pay ¼th?"

"Well, you'd be doing the cooking, cleaning and watching the kids during the day. Why should you pay the bulk?"

"Why should you?"

"It's my flat!"

"It'd be mine too."

He exhaled. "So, will you think on it?"

I nodded. "Yes."

"Out!" Linda pointed outside the window. Her face lit up as she saw a bird on the rail. "Birdie!"

Charles laughed. "Here, why don't I get them bundle up and you grab your coat and all?"

It was cold, but not too cold, fortunately. The sun was shining brightly through the forest and we walked down the cobblestone path to the river. We strayed off the patch to get closer to it. Linda was my little mermaid, she loved water, she loved drinking it and she loved her baths. She immediately went straight towards the water with Charles behind her.

Sherlock tripped on a rock and I had to steady him before he fell flat on his face. He glowered darkly as he knelt, grabbed the rock and threw it as far as he could! He was a brooder, but not today. I looked up where Charles was crouched beside the river with Linda; she was squealing and doing a happy dance as the cold water tickled at her fingers. Charles laughed as she kept trying to venture further out into the water.

I pulled Sherlock up. "Come on. Let's go see the water." Sherlock made a face protruded his lower lip as we moved towards the water. I laughed. "You're so like your father."

"I hope you mean that in a good way." Charles called as he turned towards me. He turned around just as Linda did a belly landing in the shallow water. "Whoops!"

She squealed contentedly and splashed happily in the water. "Fun!" Charles knelt down beside her, flicking water in her face.

I looked down at Sherlock, just as he stuck a wet hand in his mouth. He let out a shout of disgust and made a face. I laughed as he got down on his knees and peered at the water, as if he was trying to see what made the river water different from pure water. Linda chose to reach behind her and splash him, some water landed in his open mouth. He jumped up, shaking the water from his head angrily. "Mommy! 'Inda wet me!"

I laugh and pick him up. "Sherlock, don't be such a party pooper." He glowered at me. "I'm sorry, but you are one."

Charles picked up the dripping wet Linda, who was now pouting. "I'm sorry Tammy."

I laughed. "It's ok. She's a water worm isn't she?"

He nodded. "Indeed she is."

"Daddy." Linda said quietly, covering her mouth with her hand.

My heart stopped and I looked at her, then up at Charles. The stunned look on his face assured me that he was taken by surprise as well. He shook his head. "I-I didn't Tammy. I never-

"I know you didn't." I said. "She takes after her father, hears something and just…knows. A movie, a book, probably just…put it together." I watched Linda, studying us intently. Sherlock had always said that I was an emotional person and I acted on the moment. Today, I did. "Yes Charles."

He frowned. "Yes Charles what?"

"Yes, Linda, Sherlock and I would be glad to move in with you."

Charles laughed and wrapped his arm around my waist. I leaned into his side and smiled as we looked towards the sunlight streaming through the trees. "Care to venture on back now?" he asked me.

I smiled and looked up at him. "Any time Charles," he looked down at me, reading the double meaning in my words. "just lead the way."


	10. 10: Bidding Sherlock farewell

Chapter ten: Biding Sherlock farewell

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><p>I exhaled as I surveyed Baker Street. It stood empty and abandoned now. Every piece of furniture had been moved out. Linda and Sherlock stood quietly by my side as I surveyed the room with a woeful song pressing on my heart, soul and mind. After several long moments, I turn and retreated down the stairs to where Mrs. Hudson was talking with Charles in the kitchen.<p>

Hearing my footsteps, they stood up. Charles hung back as Mrs. Hudson walked up to me and hugged me. "Oh my dear," I could hear her fighting back tears. "I'm going to miss you so much."

"I'm going to miss you too." I hugged her tightly. "I'm going to miss this place as well." I cough lightly. "I'm sure that you can find someone to rent that flat, especially since it was his."

She shakes her head as she pulls away. "No, I can't…at least not just yet."

I nod. "I know. A memory is just as painful as a broken heart."

Charles, as if sensing my need to speak with her privately, speaks up. "I'll take the kids to the flat, put them to bed and keep an eye on them."

"Thank you Charles." I hug him and my babies before watching him walk out of the flat. I look to Mrs. Hudson and exhale. "Am I doing the right thing?"

"Yes." She guides me to the kitchen chair before standing to prepare me a cup of hot tea. I don't object, as I have managed to get a taste of hot tea and I've started to like it, depending on the flavor. "I can see why you'd have doubts, but this is for the best. Your heart needs to heal. Once out of here, you can really do that."

"I love Sherlock." I confess quietly, feeling a little ashamed for still loving my deceased husband while there was another man, alive and waiting for my love. I look up at her as she approaches and hands me a teacup. "I don't understand. Why does…my love for him have to hurt so much? It's like…a cancer of the heart. I know I've got the cancer and I do not seek treatment because the pain is too pleasurable for me."

"Because Tammy," Mrs. Hudson says as she places a hand atop mine. "you loved him completely. You loved a man who never loved anyone in his life and you got him to return your love. It was almost a victory prize, but it was something way more beautiful."

"I can't let him go."

"No one," she says as she picks up her teacup and looks aside for a moment, a shadow in her eyes. "ever truly, forgets the man they loved, even after they die. It doesn't even matter if they were good or bad, but you loved them and they just seem to hold onto you after then." I knew she was speaking from experience, I could see that in her eyes. She turns to me. "Can you not find a small place in your heart for Charles?"

I shake my head as I lifted up my teacup. "Sherlock still has a hold of my heart and mind. Charles…I admit it, he's gotten into a small corner of my heart and mind, but…Sherlock still dominates my very existence."

She studies me for a moment. "Have you gone to Sherlock's grave lately? Talked with him? Sat there or anything like that?"

"No."

"Maybe you should do that. I hear it does wonders for an aching heart."

I return my cup to the saucer and exhale. "Does it truly?"

She's silent for a moment. "You were such a lucky woman and he was a lucky man, but…that time has passed now. He loved you too much to expect you cling to his memory. He'd want you loved, safe and cherished. Your children, as time goes by, especially Sherlock, will need a man to influence his life and Charles is a fine man. Now… I suggest that you go and talk with him. It'll make you feel better. Clear things up in your mind a bit."

* * *

><p><em>Later that afternoon,<em>

* * *

><p>I stood over Sherlock's grave and looked down at him. I felt as if I were a dishonest wife confessing her affair to her husband for a few moments. Noticing a present a few birds had left behind on his gravestone, I reached into my purse for a few antibacterial wipes. After cleaning up the mess, I exhaled and ran my finger across his name.<p>

I'd never known his middle name and it wasn't on his gravestone. In fact, I didn't know many things about my husband. It had been a wild mad courtship and highly physical marriage between us. I smiled and blushed as I recalled some the maddening and passionately crazy moments between us. I hated to admit, but we were very sexually active once we were alone together. Sherlock was more active than I was, but I had a hunger for it as well. Once we decided to have a baby, he'd never let me go a single day without letting me feel his affections. He'd speak sly innuendo's that only would catch my attention in public or he'd whisper words of seduction in my ear.

Charles was nothing like him in this way at all. It was as if he had no time for romance. Then, when Sherlock had died, it was as if he'd killed a part of me. Making me incapable to love anyone other than him.

I exhale and kneel down beside the grave. "Hey, I haven't been down here in a while." I exhale and sit down to pull out a few weeks that had sprung up. I bite my lip for a minute. "I'm leaving Baker Street….I'm moving in with someone else. His name is Charles, you might have met him since he worked at Bart's, I don't know. I'm not in love with Sherlock, not yet. I'm very comfortable and I'm happy when I'm with him. But…he's not you. In truth…I don't really know what I'm doing here, talking to you like this. I guess…I, I'm seeking your blessing, I guess. I know that I said I'd die an unmarried woman if I hadn't met you and that's true. I'd never have married anybody else. In truth, I wouldn't be seeking a relationship with Charles if weren't for the fact our two children. I can't guarantee that I won't fall in love with Charles, or someone else, but…it's been two years now. But I do promise you that they'll never, ever, completely take your place. There'll always be a space in my heart that will always be in you and no one else is going to take it. For truth, I don't think any man could fill up that space in my heart." I stand up and survey the gravestone. "I won't be coming down here again Sherlock, it's really for the best. I know, my heart, head and body still long for you to come back, but you can't, so I really have to move on. And I can't move on if I insist on holding onto everything connected with you."

I pull a chain from my pocket and begin to remove all three rings he'd given me. I begin to place them on the chain. "I can't bear to be completely without these yet, so, I'm going to hang onto them for a little while longer." I slide the chain around my neck, lowering the rings so they slide deep into my neckline. If anyone looked at me, it would appear that I simply wore a chain. I bite my lip before confessing. "I don't think I ever will forgive you for ending what we had together. I was happy Sherlock, happiest when I was with you. It was more than being happy though. I felt loved, wanted and I felt beautiful. Nothing could describe the feelings of contentment I felt when I was with you and you held me close."

I stand up as I brush the dirt from my legs. "Goodbye Sherlock and….in spite of what happened, I honestly do thank you for everything. Thank you for those crazy days and all those wonderful moments we shared together. Thank you for those two beautiful children we created together." I smiled sadly. "Especially the children, I know you didn't really want them, but you did it for me." I rest my hand atop the gravestone. "I wish you could have honestly left me a clue about why you did what you did, but I hope it was a good reason. Goodbye."

With that, I turned and walked out of the graveyard towards my future.

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><p><strong>The next part of the story continues with 'Gravity,' you'll find it on my profile page.<strong>


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